


One Man Drinking Games

by etcetera_kit



Category: Super Sentai Series, 宇宙戦隊キュウレンジャー | Uchu Sentai Kyuranger
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parenting, Bullying, Fluff, M/M, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-21
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-12-04 21:01:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11563269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etcetera_kit/pseuds/etcetera_kit
Summary: The first time Naaga saw Stinger was at a school festival.





	One Man Drinking Games

**Author's Note:**

> What have I even written? I blame lack of new episode, the fact that I am on vacation this week, and the Kyuuranger school uniform pictures floating around. (Seriously, Yosuke Kishi in the plaid pants and Taiki Yamazaki in that sweater vest!)
> 
> So, obviously, this is a High School AU. No bearing on reality in the series. Kind of doing a weird mash-up of school systems and practices. Biggest thing here is that Scorpio is not a power hungry maniac, and is actually a pretty awesome brother. (More on that in the end notes.) And Tsurugi is here, because reasons.
> 
> Enjoy folks!

**One Man Drinking Games**   
_And you swore you saw me laughing, and I swore I saw you smile._

The first time Naaga saw him was at a school festival. 

Earth was the capital of the 88 Constellation System Alliance, so the planet was full of diplomats and high-ranking government officials. His parents were diplomats from the Ophiuchus System. The area was an entire city that had been devoted to government buildings and functions, and housed multiple international schools. The schools often took turns hosting various festivals, and this particular festival was hosted by his school. 

All the students were required to help in some capacity. Naaga didn’t really have friends, not like the other students did. The schools on his home planet in the Ophiuchus System were structured carefully and all the students had mandatory social time with all the other students. No one was really alone, and everyone was calm to one another. Here, there was a social ranking amongst the students he did not understand, and he’d learned during junior high to keep to himself and become invisible. Making himself scarce meant that he was not a target, but also meant that he was painfully alone. 

Earlier that school year, an exchange students from the Libra System, Balance, had been partnered with Naaga during a science class, and had been including him with his group of friends ever since. He was not really friends with any of them, even Balance, but having a group of people who would let him sit with them and not actively avoid him was nice. Balance had volunteered to help with the decorations for this festival, which meant Naaga was also helping with decorations. He was working on unfolding paper lanterns and handing them to Balance when he saw him.

The other boy was not from his school—his uniform alone indicated that. He was walking with two other boys, from a different school. His uniform was from a high school mostly frequented by local people—not very many children of government officials went to that high school. The other two boys’ uniforms were from a school that was exclusively the locals. Not that Naaga understood how that was a bad thing—he only knew that other students at his school seemed to think poorly of the students at those two high schools. 

He was unlike anyone Naaga had ever seen. All the other students at his school were always pristine, pressed, but so artificial. Even though the Ophiuchus System frowned upon emotion, mostly to avoid conflict, even Naaga could tell that the others at his school were not genuine. They were all entitled and privileged. Naaga was expected to work hard to maintain his grades and get into a university. His parents did not help him or hover over him, unlike his peers. 

But this boy… his hair was slightly messy, spilling casually into one eye. He wasn’t smiling, but his eyes were sharp, taking in everything around him. He had his shirt tucked in, wearing the jacket to his school, but he’d loosened his tie considerably and unbuttoned the first three buttons on his shirt. He could barely see a necklace glinting from under his shirt. One of his friends nudged him and he turned to look at whatever was pointed out. When sweeping his gaze back, his eyes fell directly on Naaga. 

His gaze was clear and unnerving. And he was definitely looking directly at Naaga. He tilted his head a little, assessing him, the barest hint of a smile quirking his lips. Naaga knew he needed to look away, impolite to stare, but he couldn’t. He wasn’t sure what was captivating him about the other boy. Then one of his friends pulled him away, towards the festival and his gaze was torn away.

“Naaga!”

He blinked. Balance was holding out his hand impatiently for a lantern. He handed over the lantern, beginning to unfold the next.

“Balance,” he asked, “Who was that?”

“Who?” Balance looked up and followed Naaga’s gaze to the departing boys. “Oh,” Balance continued, “That’s Stinger. Not sure who his friends are.”

“Stinger,” Naaga repeated. “How do you know him?”

“I don’t, actually, but he plays in a band over at Stereo Live.”

“He’s in a band?”

“Yeah. He’s a pretty good singer.” Balance shrugged. “I think his band is playing Saturday night. Me and some of the others were going to go. You’re welcome to come along.”

Naaga agreed, before realizing he’d never actually been to a club, or anywhere really, with friends, and had no idea what to expect. What did people even wear to those places?

\--------------------

The club was crowded on Saturday night.

Balance had said, as one of the only under-eighteen clubs in the area, the place was usually packed with kids from all the high schools. Turned out, Naaga had guessed correctly by wearing jeans, a simple gray v-neck t-shirt and generic canvas sneakers. Most of the people in the club were dancing to the music performed by live bands. A few were sitting by the bar and listening to the music. Balance and the others wanted to dance, so Naaga kept near them, but closer to the people just listening.

Stinger’s band came on—only three of them, as compared to the earlier bands. The other guitar player looked older, like he was in college. The drummer was a bull-model android. But Naaga’s attention was not on either of them. Stinger was front and center with his guitar, wearing tight black pants, a black tank top, with a studded belt over the tank top. He was wearing boots, and the necklace from earlier was visible, a scorpion tail. His hair was still casually messy, now falling into both eyes. He was the only one with a microphone and clearly the only one planning on singing. 

And when he sang… Naaga could not describe his feelings. Stinger’s voice was low and warm and almost sensual. He sang songs about love, about summer, about heartbreak, and even one that sounded like something from his home planet. Sand and dawn and scorpions…

Naaga stood up a little straighter, involuntarily taking a half step forward.

Somehow, Stinger’s eyes landed on him.

He smiled, small, but genuine. 

He kept his eyes on Naaga while he sang his next song. Another love song.

Naaga felt his cheeks flush. No one ever paid attention to him and for a singer to be able to single him out in a crowd? Unheard of. 

He barely heard them finish their set and leave the stage.

He felt hot and needed some air.

But clearly took the wrong hallway, because he was definitely not anywhere near the bathrooms, and he was afraid he’d stumbled into a backstage area. Had he missed an ‘employees only’ sign? 

“Hey.”

He whirled around. Stinger. This close, he could see that Stinger had been sweating on stage, catch the black eyeliner, the mole on his chin, the warm yet vaguely predatory smile. 

“You were at the school festival, weren’t you?”

Naaga nodded, throat tight, unable to speak.

“I’m Stinger.”

“Naaga.” His voice sounded croaky and unused to his own ears.

Stinger stared at him for a long moment. Naaga felt his cheeks flush and he wanted to run away from that gaze as much as he wanted to bask in it. Then Stinger reached out and gently took his wrist, tugging him into an alcove off the hallway. They were so close they were almost touching. He could smell the cologne and sweat on Stinger, his heart hammering in his chest, mouth dry and hands shaking. He still felt flushed, almost sweaty, and their proximity was doing nothing to help that. 

He let out a shaky gasp as Stinger reached out, gently brushing his hair away from his forehead. Stinger then threaded his fingers through his hair in a gesture that felt way too intimate, too much. Stinger’s other hand rested on his waist, palm hot through his t-shirt. Stinger then closed the very small space between them, pressing his lips to his own. 

Naaga knew about kissing, of course. He’d seen other students at school doing this, in the hallways, after school. Technically, that was not allowed on school grounds, but the rule was rarely enforced. On his home planet, this was not done—physical affection was not shown, simply because that promoted emotions and emotions promoted conflict. 

He had utterly no idea what he was supposed to do, other than press as close to Stinger as possible, moving his lips against Stinger’s. His hands were on Stinger’s chest, trapped between their bodies. The hand on Naaga’s waist, turned into an arm wrapped around his waist, hauling him closer, forcing his hands to rest on Stinger’s shoulders. They broke apart to breathe and then Stinger caught him open-mouthed, deepening the kiss, tongue exploring his mouth. Naaga really had no idea what to do, making a desperate noise into the kiss, moving back against Stinger, trying to copy his movements. He felt hotter than before, knew his face was completely flushed. 

When they broke apart the second time, Stinger just rested his forehead against his own for a moment. His fingers were still in Naaga’s hair. 

“Never done that before, huh?” Stinger asked, tone warm and reassuring.

In spite of the gentle tone, Naaga still felt a slight pang. “That bad?” he asked haltingly.

“No,” Stinger replied quickly. “Not at all. You’re a quick study. And amazing.”

As if demonstrating, Stinger kissed him again, deep and slow, giving him plenty of time to respond at his leisure, explore Stinger’s mouth. Naaga was pretty sure if he felt any hotter, he was going to explode. Everything was too much. And this, kissing, was incredible. Stinger gently nipped his bottom lip as they broke apart again. Naaga’s hands were on his shoulders, not still, not sure what to do.

“We don’t know each other,” Naaga said, not sure why.

Stinger traced his cheekbone with his thumb, before dropping his arm to Naaga’s waist, so both arms were holding him. Their bodies were practically flush. 

“We know each other’s names,” Stinger pointed out.

“I know, but I just…” He trailed off, not sure what he meant.

He really just wanted to kiss Stinger again.

“Okay,” Stinger replied, slight smile on his lips. “I’m in my second year at Musashi. You?”

“Second year at Hatano.”

Stinger rubbed his side through his t-shirt. “I play here on the weekends with pretty much the only two people I can stand who also play instruments.” He paused. “One of them is an android. The other one is technically a student teacher at another high school, but he puts up with me.” He gave Naaga a slight nudge. “I don’t see you here. Ever, I think.”

“It’s my first time here.”

“Your friends drag you?”

“I wanted to see your band.”

“Oh.” Stinger’s expression betrayed a little surprise, a little pleasure at the revelation. Naaga felt himself continue to flush. Was this even what was said to someone he just kissed? “Did you think we were any good?”

“You’re really good.”

Stinger’s smile was wider and genuine this time. “I would say you’re flirting with me, but you’re from the Ophiuchus System, right?” Naaga nodded. “So I will take that as a sincere compliment.” He paused and then said, “So now you know a little about me. What about you?”

“My parents are diplomats.”

“Oh yeah? My brother works in IT in one of the diplomat buildings.”

“Really?”

“Your parents wouldn’t have met him. He works entirely behind the scenes.” Stinger pressed a brief kiss to his lips, and Naaga was struck with how familiar, how casual, the gesture was. “What do you do at school?”

“Nothing interesting. I’m not in a band.”

Stinger smiled. “That’s not the only thing I do. I used to be on the soccer team, until I got into a fight with some little bastard and punched him. Kid’s not at the school anymore, but I’m just boycotting the soccer team out of spite now.”

“Is it working?”

“Not at all.” A pause, and then, “You?”

“I’m on the swim team.”

“Cool. What stroke?”

“Breast stroke and front crawl.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Stinger released his hold on his waist, and gently took his hand, threading their fingers together. “Let’s go outside. Get some air.”

They ended up sitting on the loading dock outside. The back was quiet, the night air cool after the heated club. They exchanged phone numbers and Stinger took a picture of the two of them. His arm was casually slung around Naaga’s waist, while Naaga just pressed close to his side. He knew the pictures were something Stinger probably did with his friends all the time. He didn’t have friends and didn’t know how much simple contentedness was in something as small as being like everyone else. They kissed for a while, out on the dock. Naaga had no idea why his home world frowned upon this—kissing Stinger was one of the best things he’d ever done. 

Naaga got a text from Balance.

_We’re about to leave. Where are you?_

“Go meet up with them,” Stinger said, fingers in his hair, firm kiss on his lips. “I’ll see you soon.”

Naaga didn’t know how he got back inside to Balance and the others. Balance only commented on where he’d disappeared to. Naaga didn’t really pay attention as they made their way home. He wanted to see Stinger more than anyone else in his life, and the intensity of that feeling scared him a little. 

\--------------------

That night, he started to get texts from Stinger.

_I miss you already._

He was lying in bed, the house silent. The buzz of his phone against the nightstand seemed loud in the quiet. No one ever sent him a text, not really. Balance did very rarely. His own parents did not even communicate with him that way. Only one person would be texting him right now. Stinger. He smiled as he read the message.

_We last saw each other less than two hours ago._

_I know. That’s too long._

Naaga felt warm again. All he could really think about since getting home from the club was kissing Stinger and wanting to kiss him again. Why had Stinger even kissed him in the first place? They’d only seen each other twice before. Something was… different… about the way Stinger treated him. Balance and the others were friendly, but kept him at arm’s length. They did not encourage him to ask questions and seemed to shy away from normal things around him, especially if they thought he would not understand whatever they were doing. But Stinger… Stinger just treated him like everyone else, including just doing normal things with him. Naaga had not asked him many questions that night, but the ones he did, Stinger just answered simply and honestly, no trace of annoyance. The warmth spread. He could feel his cheeks flush again.

_What are you doing tomorrow?_

_Studying._

_I meant plans. Any plans tomorrow?_

_Not really._

_Good. Meet me at fountain at the square tomorrow at 11._

_See you then._

Stinger sent him the picture of them.

Naaga stared at the picture for a long time. His family did not keep pictures or sentimental items around, so he wasn’t used to seeing pictures of himself. He looked… content.

He had no idea how he was going to go to sleep or get through breakfast with his parents, knowing that he was seeing Stinger tomorrow morning.

\--------------------

“Did you lose a bet?”

“Huh?”

“It’s well before noon on Sunday, and you are up, dressed and acting like a human.” His older brother looked at him over the top of his laptop screen. “Since the last time you voluntarily did that was when you were in about second grade, I think you lost a bet.”

Stinger gave his older brother a withering look, as he grabbed a bowl and spoon out of the drainer in the sink and took the milk out of the fridge. A box of cereal was already on the table. Scorpio had probably been up for a while—likely at the dojo early in the morning, and then came home to have breakfast and was now checking in on some work things, hence the laptop. 

“You have a hot date or something?”

“Maybe,” Stinger replied evasively, pouring cereal into the bowl. 

“Be careful. It’s supposed to rain today.” Scorpio looked up, studying him for a long moment. “That’s what you’re wearing on a date?”

“What’s wrong with this?” Stinger glared at his brother, subconsciously plucking at his t-shirt. He was just wearing a t-shirt and jeans.

“Nothing. You look cute.” Scorpio was barely suppressing his grin, and Stinger rolled his eyes.

“I’m not awake enough for you to do this,” he grumbled. 

“Well, I’m sure you will appropriately woo whoever it is you are going on a date with.”

“Thank you?”

“I like how you aren’t even pretending it’s not a date.”

Stinger didn’t respond, just poured milk over his cereal. He shoved a spoonful of cereal in his mouth. After swallowing, he said softly, “I don’t know if it’s a date. It’s someone I think I’d like to date.”

Scorpio shut his laptop and put it aside. He picked up his mug of coffee. “Just see where things go.” He shrugged. “You put too much pressure on yourself.”

“Look in the mirror sometime, Aniki,” he muttered in response.

His brother gave him his own withering look in return. “What school does this mystery person go to?”

“Hatano.”

“Same year as you?” He nodded. His brother looked thoughtful for a moment. “Hatano is almost entirely diplomat and dignitary children. Really, interplanetary school. So whoever it is isn’t from around here originally.”

He nodded to confirm, but then added, “We’re not originally from here.”

“I know.” He paused, and then, “But we grew up here. You actually being born on our home planet was more happenstance than actual planning.”

Stinger knew. Their parents had died when he was six years old, during the spring break between kindergarten and first grade. Scorpio had literally just graduated from high school. His brother never really talked about what he had been planning to do before their parents died—take a gap year, go to university, start an apprenticeship? They had no other family and no means to get back to their home system to be around distant relatives. Scorpio had ended up deciding that Stinger had enough upset in his life at a young age—he didn’t need to add new school and planet to everything else. So they stayed here. They had enough money from their parents’ life insurance policies and selling their house to be okay for a few years, enough time for Scorpio to finish a degree and find full-time work. They’d lived in this two-bedroom, corner apartment since then.

“So you actually going to tell me who you’re going out with?”

Stinger pretended not to hear him by eating more cereal. 

“I take that as a no.”

Scorpio stood up and put his coffee mug in the sink. He put his laptop back into the case and with his other work things. He paused as he walked by Stinger, heading towards the bedrooms at the back of the apartment. “I’m going out with Mariko this afternoon. Call me if you need anything.”

He accepted the quick hug from his brother. Scorpio pressed a kiss to the top of his head, and then disappeared into his bedroom. He heard the shower water turn on.

Stinger quickly finished his cereal, dumped his dishes in the sink and put the milk back in the fridge. He needed to hurry if he was going to get there before Naaga, who was likely serially early. 

\--------------------

The square was sparsely crowded that morning—unusual for a Sunday, but Naaga supposed the dark storm clouds were causing most people to stay indoors. At breakfast, his parents had asked him if he had plans that day. When he’s generically said he was going to the square with some classmates, his parents had just nodded. His father asked him if he needed additional spending money, but he still had his allowance for the month. And just like that, he’d been out the door and coming here. The slight lie sat strangely in his mind. He’d never lied to his parents before, and doing so, without them even questioning, gave him a slight thrill. 

Stinger was already at the fountain when he arrived, sitting on the edge, headphones in. He was mouthing the words to a song slightly and scanning the people actively. When his eyes landed on Naaga, he smiled and stood up. He took the headphones out and stuffed them into the pocket of his jacket. “Hey,” he said as Naaga walked up to him.

“Hi.” Naaga suddenly felt incredibly shy.

Stinger reached out and took his hand, threading their fingers together. Naaga felt a warm shiver down his spine when their hands touched. “We need to hurry before the rain starts.”

“For what?”

The what turned out to be a series of dive restaurants, places Naaga had not even noticed existed before. Stinger seemed to have memorized what the best dish was from each, and Naaga realized after two stops he was cobbling together an entire meal from these places. They only briefly had a slight struggle about who was paying at the first place, which was a hot sandwich shop.

“If I pay, this can be a date,” Stinger pointed out.

“It could be if I do too,” Naaga responded.

“Not if I’m the one doing the pursuing.” Stinger reached out and touched his side, fingers hot. “Besides, I want to have an awkward conversation over lunch about the future of our relationship.” He leaned over and kissed Naaga, firmly and soundly, in the middle of the shop. Naaga felt himself flush, cheeks likely dark red, but that had effectively ended the debate.

“I always knew you’d eventually be the one making out in the middle of my restaurant,” the older lady behind the counter said to Stinger as he paid for the sandwiches.

The next three places were much the same. Stinger seemed to know everyone at each. Naaga was amazed at the familiarity he had with these people and places. The next place sold mostly burgers, but Stinger just ordered fries. After that was a bakery, where he bought two chocolate chip cookies. The boy behind the counter was about their age. Naaga suddenly recognized him as one of Stinger’s friends from the festival. 

“Who’s your date?” the boy asked with a grin.

Stinger glared at him, but grudgingly replied, “This is Naaga.”

“Hi, Naaga!” the boy continued brightly. “I’m Spada.” He leaned over the counter, conspiratorially, and said in an undertone, “Watch out for him. He likes to think he breaks hearts, but he’s a giant softie. He cries at animated movies and likes to cuddle.”

Odd that Spada’s request of ‘watch out for him,’ seemed to be less about being cautious of Stinger himself, and more about keeping an eye on Stinger. 

“You suck,” Stinger grumbled, moving to the counter to pay as Spada put the cookies into a paper bag and handed them to him.

“I’m one of your best friends, you love me and you know it,” Spada replied, voice sing-song. Spada waved away his money. “Stop trying to pay here. My parents would have a heart attack if they knew anyone in this place charged you or your brother.”

“Spada—“

“No way. My mom’s scary when she’s mad. I’m not risking that.” Spada waved them out the door. “Bye! Have fun on your date!”

Naaga gave Stinger a questioning look as they were back out on the sidewalk. Stinger looked a little embarrassed. “I’ve known Spada since we were kids. His parents helped my brother a lot right after our parents died.”

“I’m sorry,” Naaga replied softly.

“It was a long time ago.” He shook his head. “But Spada’s parents are still looking out for us.”

“That’s nice.”

Naaga could not really imagine either scenario—being without parents and just in the care of an older sibling, or having another family care enough about him to give him food, treat him like one of their own. The definition of community on his home planet was starting to seem flawed. 

The final stop was a coffee shop, where Stinger ordered two lattes.

The rain was just starting to come down as they ducked across the square and into an old building, abandoned, but slated for renovation soon. None of the construction had happened, and Stinger just ignored all the signs that had various iterations of ‘no entry’ on them. “Should we be in here?” Naaga asked softly, slight pang of anxiety shooting through him. 

“It’s fine,” Stinger replied. “No one’s around.”

He led him up the stairs and to the top floor of the building—only six floors tall, but moving to the window, Naaga was amazed at the view, how much of the square and the city they could see from here. The glass panes were broken, so a cool breeze from the rain came in the window. Stinger pulled a blanket and two bottles of water from his bag, and they sat down on the blanket by the window.

Stinger watched him as he bit into his sandwich.

“It’s good, right?”

He nodded, feeling a small smile quirk his lips at Stinger’s earnestness. 

The food was all really good. He didn’t normally eat food like this—the meals at home were carefully prepared, nutritionally balanced, slightly bland. His home system did not believe food was an experience or art form—just something to satisfy physical needs. He brought his lunch to school each day, didn’t eat in the cafeteria, and his lunches were much the same. But this food? The flavors, the crispiness, the sweet chocolate in the cookies… this was amazing. 

He felt full to bursting as they finished the food and coffee. 

Stinger wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him to his side. Naaga went easily, basking in the closeness and the warmth of Stinger’s body. He was never this close to other people.

“I know we don’t really know each other, but I really want to be dating you,” Stinger said softly.

“Why?” Naaga asked, breathless. 

“I don’t know. Just a feeling.” Stinger paused, looking away, before turning back to him and saying, “You’re one of the first people to look at me and not see a waste of space.”

“People don’t think that.”

“You’d be surprised.” Stinger’s fingers were on his chin, turning him. “So how about it? Can I be super cheesy and walk you to school in the morning?”

“You wouldn’t get to your own school on time.”

“I can just be late to first hour. It’s the fucking ethics class. No one cares.”

The conversation ended because Stinger pressed his lips to his own, and they spent some time just kissing lazily. Naaga was still not sure how kissing Stinger could feel so good. Stinger gently pushed him down onto the blanket and he went, because Stinger’s body was over him, pressing him into the ground and his weight felt amazing against him. Stinger had one leg between his as they kept kissing and one hand went under his t-shirt, palm hot against his skin. He gasped into the kiss, back arching a little, encouraging Stinger to keep touching him.

As the afternoon began to turn to dusk, and the rain slowed down, Stinger just hovered over him, slight smile, thumb tracing around his lips, kiss-swollen and raw. 

Naaga felt simultaneously on edge and content.

He had no idea what any of this would bring, but he did know that he did not want to let go of Stinger.

\--------------------

The next few weeks passed in a blur. All the high schools had open lunch, but their schools were too far away to meet for lunch and be back on time. (Being back on time did not seem to be that important to Stinger, but Naaga had physics after lunch and could not miss that class.) So they settled for meeting in the library of Naaga’s school—one of the inter-school initiatives was that students could use any other school’s library. Because Hatano had an impressive catalogue, students from all the high schools could be seen there.

Stinger would watch Naaga work on his homework—sometimes he’d make a passing effort to work on his own. More often than not, they ended up finding a deserted aisle of the library and just kissed amongst the books. Naaga loved kissing Stinger, but was also strangely elated to be doing something mundane that other students took for granted.

A teacher even caught them once, and simply rolled her eyes. “Come on, guys. There’s more private spots to do that and you know it.”

Naaga learned that Stinger lived with his older brother, who was twelve years older than him. They were originally from the Scorpius System, but their parents had been part of the Intergalactic Peace Corps and ended up settling here, working for the main headquarters. Their parents died in an accident when Stinger was six and his brother was eighteen. It had been just the two of them since then. Stinger’s brother wanted him to join a school sports team again and work on raising his grades a little, but Stinger just wanted to concentrate on his band.

Stinger represented his brother as overbearing, but when Naaga met him, he knew that Stinger was exaggerating and his brother cared about him very much. And was very easygoing. When they went over to their apartment one evening, Scorpio just said, “So this is Naaga? Nice to meet you.”

“Don’t embarrass me, Aniki,” Stinger muttered.

Scorpio just gave him a sidelong, exasperated look. “Does it look like I’m pulling out baby pictures right now?” He looked at Naaga. “He was adorable, by the way.”

“Aniki!”

“Oh good grief, calm down. You’re going to have a cardiac event at this rate.” Scorpio just shook his head. “I’m ordering pizza for dinner. Any preferences?”

Naaga had never eaten pizza before.

One evening shortly after that, they were at their apartment again. Scorpio wasn’t there, because he had to work late one evening a week. They laid on Stinger’s bed, kissing lazily in the afternoon sunshine. When they broke apart, Stinger just gently smoothed his hair away from his forehead. “What would you think if we had sex?” he asked softly.

Naaga blinked. He knew what that was, of course. But he was mostly familiar with the mechanics between a man and a woman. And he knew that getting hard from their kissing and touching was normal, even if he didn’t really know what to do about the hardness, other than to wait for it to go away. But somehow, he wanted to be close to Stinger and would trust him with this.

“I don’t know how it works with two men,” he finally said softly.

Stinger just smiled, fingers still in his hair, reassuring. “Theoretically, I know how this works, but I’ve never done it with another person.”

“You can do it by yourself?”

Stinger blinked, and then grinned. “You’ve never rubbed one out before?”

He shook his head.

Stinger kissed him softly, sweetly. “Just think about it,” he murmured.

Naaga shook his head again. “I don’t have to think about it. I want to.”

The sunlight streamed through the curtains as Stinger pulled his sweater up and over his head, and then he loosened his tie, tossing that aside too. He gasped as Stinger would unbutton one button on his shirt, opening the shirt further and pressing hot kisses to the newly exposed skin. He felt even hotter than when they kissed, shivers running down his spine, groin throbbing in anticipation. He reached out, hands shaking, trying to unbutton Stinger’s shirt. (His jacket and tie were long gone.) He smiled softly and just completely pulled off his shirt. He then ducked his head, continuing to open up Naaga’s shirt and press kisses to his skin. When he got to the waistband of his pants, he pushed the shirt from his shoulders, moving back up his body to kiss him, deep, messy and fiery. 

Before he quite comprehended what was happening, Stinger got the rest of their clothes off, hand reaching between them to touch his cock. Naaga groaned, deep in the back of his throat, back arching as Stinger touched him. He stroked him a few times to the tip, and then ran his thumb over the tip, spreading around the wetness that had gathered there. Naaga’s chest was heaving. He was going to explode. This was too much. 

“Stinger,” he cried, hands searching for purchase on Stinger’s back. Stinger just lowered his own hips, weight pressing him into the mattress. He felt Stinger’s hardness against his own. 

“I’ve got you,” Stinger murmured in reply. “See? This will feel good.”

“It already feels good.”

“It gets better.”

Stinger was then stroking both of them at once, and Naaga made a helpless noise, unsure what to do with the onslaught of sensations. He closed his eyes. “Relax, baby,” Stinger whispered. He added a little more pressure and that was it. Stars exploded behind Naaga’s eyes, and warm, sticky fluid spilled between their bodies. Stinger tensed and he felt more wet warmth between them. Stinger was kissing him. He finally opened his eyes. Stinger smiled.

“You good?”

“That was amazing.”

Stinger used one of his t-shirts to clean the mess from their stomachs. They then held each other, kissing lazily in the fading sunlight. When they showered together, Naaga asked what other kinds of sex they could have. Stinger mentioned a few things, but then penetrative sex. When Naaga questioned what that meant, Stinger just said they’d open up one of them and the other would be inside. He reached around Naaga, and his fingers went between his cheeks, circling him briefly. Naaga gasped, but then moaned as he removed his finger quickly. That felt so intimate, so vulnerable, and yet, Naaga was pleased with the idea that someone was close enough to him to do those things. 

After the shower, Stinger put on a t-shirt and jeans, and Naaga redressed in his school uniform. Scorpio got home and they helped him make dinner. Once the food was gone, Scorpio offered to drive him home. Naaga agreed, and was amazed that Stinger was comfortable enough in front of his brother to kiss Naaga goodbye. 

On the drive, Scorpio just said, “I’m glad you’re with my brother.”

Naaga looked at him, feeling pleased and warm at the words.

“You’re good for him. He’s never voluntarily done homework outside of school in his life, and last weekend he was asking me for help with science homework.”

Naaga felt himself involuntarily smile.

On the weekends that Stinger’s band played at the club, Naaga went. He still didn’t really like the club, but he liked watching Stinger perform. Stinger’s friend Spada came along sometimes. He liked Spada—the other boy was practical and friendly. Naaga also learned that the android who drummed for Stinger was called Champ and was actually a security guard at Stinger’s school. Stinger had apparently gotten in trouble enough to get to know Champ, and Champ had some interesting programming to pursue hobbies in his spare time. The bassist was called Tsurugi and he was twenty-three and a student teacher at Spada’s high school. “He’s a good kid who stays out of trouble when he does this,” Tsurugi said by way of an explanation for why he was playing in Stinger’s band. “Why would I not support him?”

But unlike the people at his school that Naaga was sometimes social with, these people just seemed to accept him for who he was, and all seemed to genuinely like him. He found himself looking forward to spending time with them. 

And the sex with Stinger was amazing.

Naaga should have known everything was too good to last.

\--------------------

Naaga got home shortly before dinner one evening. He and Stinger had met Spada over at the bakery that Spada’s family owned. Another one of Spada’s siblings was working the counter, so the three of them sat at a table in the corner, eating day-old cookies, and playing a card game that Naaga was still trying to get the hang of. Stinger and Spada beat him miserably every time. 

He was not expecting his parents to be waiting in the living room for him.

His heart dropped to his stomach and his chest felt tight. “Naaga,” his father said. “Sit down.”

He clutched his school bag to his chest, almost falling onto the couch across from them.

“Your homeroom teacher says you’ve been meeting a boy from another school in the library? Is this true?” his mother asked.

He nodded, making no noise.

“Who is he?” she continued.

“A friend,” he managed to croak.

“She said you’ve been caught kissing this boy,” his father cut in. Naaga felt a flush creep up his neck and to his cheeks.

“You haven’t done anything else with this boy, right?” his mother questioned.

The flush grew deeper and he just looked at the ground.

“Dammit, Naaga.” His father’s tone was angry, which was relatively rare for anyone from their home system. Naaga looked up, pang of fear shooting through him. His father stood up and Naaga saw his hand raise, but didn’t quite comprehend the slap across the face. Numbing pain spread from where the blow had connected, and Naaga hunkered down, one hand pressed to his face.

“You know this goes against our people,” his father continued. “Did you not stop and think for a moment before doing this?”

“You never said I couldn’t,” he ground out, eyes burning hot. A tear fell down his cheek.

“I shouldn’t have to tell you that.” His father shook his head as more tears fell. “Look at you, sitting there crying. This is ridiculous.”

His mother stood up, putting a hand on his father’s shoulder. “You will finish the school term here, but you will eat lunch in your classroom and come straight home after school. Next term, you will transfer to a boarding school back home. Hopefully you can curb this behavior before graduation.”

Naaga just started full-on sobbing at the idea of not being allowed to see Stinger and his other friends, and then being separated by light years. 

“Give us your phone,” his mother said.

He started to protest, but saw that his father was still angry. He was afraid of being slapped again, so he took the phone out of his pocket and surrendered the device without a fight.

“Go to your room. We’ll call you when dinner is ready.”

“I’m not hungry,” he muttered, standing up and rushing past them.

In his room, he went through his school bag, pulling out a novel they were reading in his literature class. A scrap of paper was tucked in the book, just a small doodle Stinger had drawn one afternoon at the library. Naaga felt himself begin to cry in earnest. He had no idea what to do.

\--------------------

Stinger felt like panicking.

Naaga had not been at the library that afternoon like he normally was. Stinger had been going to suggest they ditch the library and study in a coffee shop, which really would have been an excuse to cuddle on a comfy couch and steal kisses while Naaga tried to study. But Naaga was not at their table. He’d searched the whole library and then wandered around the campus for a while. Naaga was nowhere to be seen. And his texts to Naaga were not going through, and calls went straight to voicemail.

He thought maybe his phone had broken, so he asked Spada and Tsurugi to try texting and calling Naaga too. Same result. 

Naaga would not suddenly go silent on him. No way. Naaga had been a little distant and wary when they first got together, but he’d been opening up and was happy the past few weeks. He was smart and funny and liked all the dumb things that he did with his friends. Tsurugi had grabbed Stinger after a show the other weekend and just said, “Do not fuck things up with Naaga. He’s head over heels in love with you and good for you. Hell, your grades are actually up.” He’d temporarily forgotten that his brother had given Tsurugi access to see his grades.

Aniki.

He needed to go home. His brother would know what to do. Aniki got home early today, so he should already be there. His phone buzzed. Speaking of Aniki.

_Get home. Now._

He swore creatively and then dashed off the Hatano campus, practically running home. The walk from his own school to their apartment was reasonable and doable on a regular basis. He failed to factor in how much further away Hatano was, and was winded by the time he got home. Even though he had a stitch in his side, he dashed up the stairs three at a time and burst into the apartment.

“Aniki! What’s—“

But he stopped short, suddenly realizing why his brother told him to come home immediately.

Naaga was sitting at their kitchen table, eyes red and a bruise blooming on his left cheek. He stood up when Stinger walked in, and Stinger just pulled him into a bone-crushing hug. Naaga sobbed a little when they embraced, saying brokenly, “I’m sorry. They took my phone away.”

“It’s okay.” Stinger pulled back a little, studying Naaga’s face. He frowned at the bruise. “What happened?”

“Sit down, Stinger,” Scorpio said, getting up and pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. He handed it to Stinger, as they all sat down at the kitchen table. Naaga had clearly been here for a little while, because there were two cups of tea on the table. His brother only got out the tea for guests and people he knew liked tea, of which Naaga was both. Stinger gulped down some water, keeping a hand on Naaga’s knee. 

“My parents found out about us,” Naaga whispered.

Stinger blinked. “They were upset?”

“People from the Ophiuchus System don’t usually have physical relationships,” Naaga replied. A tear fell down his cheek. 

“Look,” Scorpio said. “Naaga was telling me that his parents want him to go back to their home planet for his final year of school. But I’m also to understand that people from the Ophiuchus System who start gaining emotions don’t usually choose to go back, simply because they don’t fit in anymore and there’s not a place for them there.”

“I wasn’t planning to go back,” Naaga said softly. “I was going to go to university here and start working here.”

“What are we going to do?” Stinger asked.

“Naaga and I are going to talk to his parents,” Scorpio said, his expression saying clearly that Stinger was not invited to go along. He frowned. “I think it would be better for Naaga to stay with us and finish high school here.”

Stinger clearly looked way too pleased at that prospect, because his brother added, “And believe me, if anything happens to your relationship, you are the one sleeping on a futon in the living room, Stinger.”

They stood up. “We’re going,” Scorpio said. “Order some pizza around six for dinner. You know what card to put it on.”

Stinger kissed Naaga before he left, squeezing his hand.

He then didn’t know what to do with himself while waiting to see how things would work out. He tried to listen to music, tried to watch some crappy drama on the Circuit, and even tried doing his homework, but all the math problems were swimming together. Hopefully, Naaga would be around later to help him figure it out. Hopefully. 

Spada and Tsurugi texted him to ask if Naaga was okay.

He just told them he was fine, and he’d talk to them later.

He had just finished ordering their food, when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He rushed to the front door and opened it, relief shooting through him. Aniki was walking up the stairs, carrying a large duffel bag. Naaga was trailing behind, dragging a suitcase. “How did it go?” Stinger asked, ushering them into the apartment. “What did they say? You can stay here, right?”

His brother shoved the duffel bag in his arms. “Naaga will fill you in. Go make room for him in your room and stop hovering.” Stinger led Naaga down the short hall to his bedroom. “And find the futon,” his brother called after them. “I know you like to share a bed now when it’s cold, but you might change your minds when it’s hot out.”

“So what happened?” Stinger asked as he shut the bedroom behind them.

Naaga sank down onto the edge of the bed, looking exhausted.

“They weren’t happy, but conceded that Scorpio was right. This would be better.” He took a shaky breath. “My younger sister has always gone to boarding school on our home planet, but they thought having at least one child with them would be better for their diplomatic status.”

“Did your parents do that?” Stinger asked softly, motioning to the bruise.

“My father.” Naaga’s eyes were bright. “He was angry.”

Stinger felt his chest tighten in rage. He didn’t really remember his parents outside of fuzzy memories, but he knew they loved him and Scorpio, and wanted them to be happy. And Scorpio might have wanted to hit him a few times, because Stinger knew he was damned irritating sometimes, but never would actually act on that. In fact, Scorpio was more likely to make him hug it out. Or pretend to be oblivious to whatever Stinger was upset about. 

“You should put some ice on it,” Stinger just muttered. He went into his bathroom and pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink. He got out the cold pack, snapped the middle and took it back in the room to Naaga. He pressed the pack against his cheek, which made Naaga wince at first, but he reached up to hold the pack in place. 

Satisfied that Naaga was icing the bruise, he strode over to his chest of drawers, and emptied the top two. (The chest only had four drawers, all the same size.) He just shoved whatever was in there into the bottom two drawers—shirts, socks, something or other. He really needed to clean in here (which would make Aniki really happy.) 

“Are you staying at Hatano?”

“At least until the end of this term. Scorpio said he’d have to think about what do to about schools.”

Stinger snorted. “That sounds like Aniki. I’ve gotten into too many fights to get into Hatano. Someplace closer to here might be nice.” He crossed the room to his small closet and shoved the clothes to one side. What the hell was even in here?

Naaga sniffed a little. Stinger turned and sat down next to him on the bed, pulling him into his arms. He kissed his temple. “Hey,” he said softly. “It’s okay. We’ll figure it out.”

“It’s a lot.”

“I know.” He pressed another kiss to his temple. “But Aniki doesn’t make decisions lightly. He wouldn’t have asked you to stay here if he didn’t think it was the best thing.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Naaga,” he said, voice warm. He rocked Naaga a little, glad when Naaga finally turned, pressing his face to his shoulder, putting down the cold pack and wrapping his arms around his waist. “You’re not intruding. Aniki also would not have asked you to stay here if he didn’t think that was something we could do.”

“Really?”

“Hell, yes. He likes you.” Stinger paused, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Look on the bright side, term’s almost over. There’s a break coming up.”

Naaga huffed a small laugh. “That’s all you think about.”

“Hey, I’m also playing this weekend. Spada will be there. And my friend Hame from school. Remember, I told you about her?” He felt Naaga nod against his chest. “She has a super big crush on Spada, but she’s also captain of the kendo club and a little scary, so watching that is hilarious.”

He pulled back a little to kiss Naaga properly. Naaga practically melted into the kiss. 

“Come on,” Stinger said. “Let’s get your stuff unpacked. Food should be here soon.” He kissed Naaga again, briefly, before adding, “And then I kind of need your help with some homework.”

“Is it your algebra homework again?”

“Yes! I hate it.”

Naaga’s smile was genuine. He looked overwhelmed, but a lot had happened.

And he meant it—they’d figure it out.

\--------------------

The last swim team practice of the term was later that week. Naaga was not sure that anything had really changed at school, except that he felt more isolated and alone than usual. He wished Musashi was actually close enough for them to take advantage of their open lunches. Stinger’s school was really close to Spada’s, so they all ate lunch together every day with a few of their friends from both high schools. Seemed like mostly Spada’s friend from his own school, Lucky, and then Hame would usually join them. 

Scorpio packed lunches for him and Stinger in the morning. “Hey, you guys have to do your own laundry and cleaning and keep up with your own homework. My concession to you taking care of yourselves is to pack you lunch.” The lunch was usually a sandwich, with a piece of fruit, and maybe chips or cookies, depending on what was in the apartment. “Someone needs to quit eating the lunch food when he gets hungry in the afternoon,” Scorpio had said with a pointed look at Stinger, who just gave him an indignant look in return. 

After practice was over, Naaga was standing at his locker, finished changing back into his uniform. Since this was the last practice, their coach had said they needed to clear their lockers, so he was emptying the few things from his locker into his school bag.

“Is it true your parents threw you out and now you have to live with your boyfriend?”

Naaga frowned, glancing at the source of the accusation. A group of third year boys. Also on the swim team. His heart was hammering in his chest. He had a feeling this was the kind of situation that led to Stinger getting into fights.

“No,” he muttered, shoving the last item into his school bag and zipping it closed. He slammed his locker shut, and attempted to push past them.

The first boy stopped him with a rough hand to the shoulder. “Hang on, so we haven’t seen you hanging out with townies from Musashi and Seiko?”

Naaga stayed quiet. He just wanted to leave.

“I heard his parents found out he was sucking off his boyfriend and kicked him out,” another boy piped up.

“He’s from the Ophiuchus System,” another sneered. “They’ll be pissed about him doing anything with his boyfriend.”

“Is it true that the Musashi kids are better in bed? That’s why you’re with him, right?” The first boy shoved him backwards, towards an isolated corner of the locker room. Naaga clutched his school bag to his chest and attempted to get past them again. But two of them got him under the arms this time, pushing him back against the wall.

“What I can’t believe,” the first boy continued. “Is that you were here, with everything, diplomat parents, world on a platter, and you threw everything away to be with some poor kid from town.”

“That’s not—“

“Oh shut-up. You used to be one of us, and then you started getting fucked by some townie.” He made a disgusted noise. “If you wanted that, you could have found someone here.”

Naaga was about to be in a blind panic, to the point that he didn’t quite comprehend the first punch to his ribcage. He just slid down the wall in surprise. There were more of them than him, and he knew kids like this—fighting back would make them crueler. He didn’t know how long, but he did know one of them punched him in the face, hitting his eye and then his lip. Once he was down, they kicked his ribs and right leg, his school bag only shielding him so much. When they finally left, he hurt everywhere and was gasping for breath.

He laid on the floor for an indeterminate amount of time. There was no point in telling a teacher. Those boys were so close to graduation, everything would be swept under the rug. He wiped at his mouth, realizing his lip was bleeding, and he had blood on his shirt and sweater. He slowly pushed himself to his feet, trying not to cry out. He was limping as he walked out of the locker room, which was thankfully deserted. The school was fairly empty this late, and his bike was where he’d left it that morning. (The bike was an old one of Scorpio’s and Stinger’s, and helped him get to school a little faster, especially since Scorpio’s work schedule varied and he couldn’t always drive Naaga to or from school.) But he couldn’t really get his leg over, let alone pedal. 

So he ended up pushing the bike all the way home.

Scorpio’s car was in the carport when he got there. He’d forgotten Scorpio would be home early. He put his bike up in the carport and slowly made his way up the stairs. He could hear Scorpio on the phone as he walked in the front door.

“If I make you change schools, just remember that you told me three times in the last thirty seconds that you hate everyone at your school.” Stinger. Scorpio was still trying to work out what to do about their schools. “Yeah. Okay. See you in a little bit.”

Scorpio looked up as he walked in. His expression changed from generic to surprised and then concerned. “Naaga? What the hell happened?”

“It’s nothing. I—“

“It’s not nothing,” Scorpio interrupted. “You’re bleeding.” He grabbed a clean kitchen towel from the drawer and pressed it to Naaga’s lip. He grabbed his school bag and dumped it on the couch, leading Naaga into the kitchen. “Let me get the first aid kit.” He ducked into a bathroom and came back with the kit. “What happened?” he repeated.

Haltingly, Naaga relayed what had happened, leaving out a lot of the details, but giving the big picture—he got beat up after school.

“I’m calling the school. That is ridiculous. You shouldn’t be afraid at your own school. Did you know who the boys are?” Naaga shook his head as Scorpio motioned for him to sit down at the table. When he winced, Scorpio let out a long breath.

“It’s not just your face,” he said softly. “What else?”

Naaga felt like crying. “My ribs… and leg.”

Scorpio made him untuck his shirt and show him the bruises on his side. “Does it hurt to breath?”

“A little.”

“We’re going to the clinic.”

“No. I’m—“

“Naaga,” Scorpio interrupted, tone leaving no room for argument. “You need an x-ray and better painkillers than we have here.”

The clinic was not as bad as Naaga thought it would be. The doctor was very calm and non-judgmental, but she did insist on an x-ray of his chest and his leg. “Nothing broken,” she pronounced, “Just bruised. I’ll prescribe some painkillers and you should take it easy for a few days. Definitely no riding your bike to school. If someone can drive you, that would be ideal.” He must have looked crestfallen, because she added, “It’s just for a few days. The term is almost over, right?”

The doctor excused herself to go talk to Scorpio, and Naaga caught bits of his conversation with the school. “No. I filed that paperwork. He is my problem… He’s got bruised ribs and a damned-near broken leg and you think that’s not actionable? What the hell kind of school… Excuse me? Would you have told a teacher immediately? You’re not seventeen and scared! You know I can press charges, right?”

When they got back to the car after picking up the painkillers, Scorpio glanced at his phone. “Seven texts and two missed calls.” He shook his head. “Stinger does not do moderation when he’s worried.” He tapped out a quick text, put his phone away and started the car, pulling away from the clinic. “We need to get you a new phone.”

“Thank you,” he replied softly.

“If nothing else, you can actually call me when you need a ride home.”

Naaga felt himself begin to cry. He didn’t want to be a burden like this.

“Hey,” Scorpio said, glancing at him. “It’s okay. Some things are more important than work. Besides, I already talked to Spada’s parents and they’re going to drive you when I can’t. It’s just for a few days, right?”

He just kept sobbing, the full weight of the day finally dawning on him. So much had changed in such a short amount of time, and now he was scared about being at school on top of everything else. And everything hurt.

They were home. Scorpio parked the car and turned it off. He released his seatbelt and leaned over to give Naaga a quick hug. “Really, it’s going to be okay. Hey, Spada’s mom sent over some pies. Which you can get mad at Stinger about if any of them are gone already.” That made Naaga smile. “Come on, let’s see if Stinger actually managed to make dinner or if he melted the oven.”

Turned out that Spada’s mom sent over dinner too, so no one needed to worry about Stinger not paying attention and accidentally setting something on fire.

Stinger’s relief was palpable, but he also looked angry. “Naaga,” he breathed, hands going to loosely cup his face, studying the new bruises, eyes flashing. 

“I’m okay,” he said, brokenly and softly. 

“You’re not. Who did this? I’ll—“

“Stinger,” Scorpio interrupted, expression clearly saying he was not to go out and beat up anyone in turn. “Did you go get what I told you to?”

Stinger released Naaga, nodding and grabbed a bag from the kitchen table. “New phone,” he said as he handed the bag to Naaga. “You should be able to sync it and get all your contacts and texts back.”

Naaga nodded, throat tight.

Scorpio squeezed his shoulder. “Go lay down for a while. We’ll eat later. I’ll send Stinger in with some painkillers in a bit.” The unspoken part was that Scorpio needed to talk to Stinger.

Naaga nodded again, blinking back more tears. He picked up his school bag and went back into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. A part of him really wanted to know what Scorpio and Stinger were talking about, but he also really hurt and just wanted to curl up and continue crying about this. He had no idea how he was going to get through the last few days of school. He changed out of his school uniform, and into a pair of pajama pants and one of Stinger’s t-shirts. There was blood on his school shirt and sweater that he’d have to get out before tomorrow. He’d have time for that later. He laid down on the bed, trying to ignore the throbbing pain everywhere. He curled towards the wall, quiet sobs bubbling up. 

Had he made everything worse when he came to Scorpio in the first place? He’d been so panicked about his parents taking him away from his friends that he hadn’t thought much further than trying to figure out a way to stay here, and his parents had been beyond listening to anything he had to say. And now rumors had started at his school—he didn’t know how, but they had, making him a target again, after he’d worked so hard to become invisible. That alone made him feel so much worse than any incidents in junior high. Then, he’d been frustrated, mildly inconvenienced, wondering why the other kids didn’t have something better to do. Then, things consisted of unanswered taunts. Now, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to handle another incident like today. He wasn’t strong like Stinger was. He would break and crumble under the pressure. 

After a while, his sobs died out and he just laid in bed, staring at the wall.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he heard Stinger quietly come into the room. He set something on the nightstand and then the mattress dipped with his weight. He laid down next to Naaga, spooning him, one arm holding him tight and the other running through his hair. He just let himself be comforted by the warmth of Stinger’s body for a while. 

“I have your painkillers,” Stinger said softly after a moment. “Aniki says we need to talk about some things, but I talked to Champ. He says he can switch shifts with someone from Hatano to keep an eye on you the last few days of school.”

“He can do that?”

“Said he’d work it out with their supervisor.” Stinger paused, rubbing his arm comfortingly. “Aniki also thinks it would be better if you transfer to Musashi. We have a no tolerance policy for harassment or discrimination.”

“Hatano does too,” Naaga replied, knowing he sounded miserable.

“Yeah, but ours is actually enforced. Hatano probably ignores it because donations are on the line.” Stinger let out a long breath. “Why do you think I’ve gotten into so many fights and not been expelled?”

“Champ said you were defending people.”

“I got in trouble for not getting a teacher or Champ. Not for why I was fighting.”

Naaga snuggled back into Stinger. “I want to transfer. I don’t want to be there anymore.”

“They’ll want you in, like, every club. Your grades are awesome. You could probably join any sports team you want too, just based on grades.” Stinger huffed a small laugh. “Hell, Hame would probably want you in the kendo club. There’s apparently a lot of meatheads around there that keep failing and having to miss competitions.”

They were silent for a long moment, before Naaga whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“For what? None of this is your fault.”

“Everything has gotten out of control.”

“It will get better. Aniki always says that things seem bad because you’re in the middle of them.” Stinger paused, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Naaga, nothing is actually out of control.” Stinger sat up, “Come on. You need to take some painkillers. Aniki is reheating dinner. It’s from Spada’s mom, so it will be really good.”

The painkillers helped dull the aches enough that he could finish his homework after dinner. Turned out, both Scorpio and Stinger knew how to get blood out of clothes, so Scorpio got his school uniform ready for tomorrow while Stinger was helping him sync the new phone. (Not that he really needed Stinger’s help with that, but it gave him something concrete to do. Scorpio had already warned him about hovering once that night.)

He thought back to one of his first conversations with Spada, and he was right. Stinger liked the whole world to think he was tough and he didn’t care, but he cared deeply about the people close to him. That’s why he hovered around them when he was worried or trying to take care of them. Naaga found that he really didn’t mind, because the action came from a good place.

That night, as they lay in bed, Naaga just turned to Stinger and whispered, “I want you to make love to me.”

He could see Stinger’s surprised expression in the dim light. “Naaga, you’re way too hurt for that. We’ve never really gotten that far with it, anyways. You need to be resting.”

“I want you closer.” He pressed a brief kiss to Stinger’s lips. “I can take it.”

“Naaga.”

“Stinger, I want this. I am so tired of feeling alone and scared and unsure. You are the one thing that I’m sure about. Please?”

“Okay,” Stinger relented, kissing him again. “But if anything gets to be too much, we’re stopping immediately.” Another kiss, and, “Plus we need to be quiet.” Meaning that as much as his older brother was fine with their relationship and the fact that they were having sex, Scorpio really did not want to hear them doing that.

Everything was too much, but in a good way.

Stinger went slowly and gently, getting a pillow under his hips so the leverage wouldn’t hurt his leg as much. Biting his lip hurt, so Naaga had to muffle his cries by turning his head and simply pressing his lips together. It burned when Stinger first started opening him up, but he soon relaxed into the sensation, hips moving, fully hard. Nothing, nothing, could describe how he felt when Stinger finally rolled on the condom and entered him fully. He got one leg around Stinger’s waist, pulling him as close as possible, arms wrapped around his back. 

Afterwards, everything hurt more, but he didn’t care, just snuggling as close to Stinger as he could. “I love you,” Naaga murmured against his skin.

Stinger was quiet for a long moment. Naaga pulled back a little. Stinger looked stunned.

“Really?” His voice was soft, awed.

Naaga nodded. “You don’t have to say anything.”

“No, it’s not that.” Stinger’s thumb gently traced his lips. “I just didn’t think you were ready for that. I’ve been saying ‘I love you’ in my head for weeks now.”

Naaga poked his side, a little exasperated. Stinger squirmed a little under the touch. “Just say it next time,” he muttered.

“You’re so picky,” Stinger teased. He took a deep breath. “I love you too.”

Maybe there was something to get him through all this.

\--------------------

“Hurry up! You’re going to be late!” Scorpio shook his head, then muttered, “You’ve managed to get yourself up for school every day of your life, until now. Why wait until now?”

Stinger was shoving toast in his mouth. “I _did_ set the alarm, Aniki!” he shot back, and then grumbled, “Just slept through it.”

Scorpio shook his head again. “Finish eating that and lock the door behind you,” he told Stinger, motioning to the toast. “Naaga and I need to leave.” He glanced at his watch. “Leave in three minutes and you won’t have to run to school.”

Stinger opened his mouth to retort, but Scorpio just cut him off with, “Save it for your homeroom teacher.”

And they were out the door and in the car. They had both technically overslept, Naaga especially, mostly because when they had finally gotten to sleep after everything last night, Naaga had been exhausted, harder to get up this morning. He was sore and ached all over, but didn’t regret what they did. He’d just taken more painkillers and then let Stinger hover, which meant that Stinger pushed him into the shower first and gathered all of Naaga’s school things before finding his own. Which was mostly why Stinger ended up being the one rushing after all. Which was sweet. And his brother did not need to know all the details. 

Even still, Naaga could not stop the fear of going back to school. His stomach hurt and he hadn’t really been able to eat breakfast. His palms felt sweaty as he clenched and unclenched his school bag. Only a few more days. Then spring break. Then a new school. And the new school would have his friends and actually support him. 

Scorpio dropped him off at the curb outside the entrance gate. “Got everything?” he asked. “You remembered the painkillers for lunch time, right?”

Naaga nodded.

Scorpio looked worried. “Spada’s mom will pick you up after school. You know which car is hers?” Another nod. “Good. I’m coming up on my lunch break to talk to the administration and submit the transfer paperwork. Stick with Champ. If anything else happens, you’re staying home and just finishing the work.” Exams had been over two weeks ago, so that would actually work. 

Naaga looked out the window at the kids streaming into the school. He took a deep breath. Only a few more days. Scorpio squeezed his shoulder as he released his seatbelt and got out of the car. He could feel himself shaking as he walked slowly towards the school. He didn’t look back—it would be too tempting to just beg to stay home. And Scorpio would probably let him. He didn’t know why, but he felt like both Scorpio and Stinger would be disappointed in him if he did that. 

“Good morning!” 

Naaga looked up. He’d somehow gotten inside the gate. Champ was standing in the middle of the path. The students were ignoring him, much like they ignored the usual security officer. Something loosened in his chest when he saw Champ. Stinger would not have exaggerated Champ switching shifts with someone here, but Naaga had not expected to actually see him.

“You look like you went a couple rounds with a boxing robot.” Champ huffed. “Some kids are real pieces of work, huh?”

Naaga nodded, sudden lump in his throat at the friendly face. 

“Come on,” Champ motioned for him to follow him. “I’ll walk with you to class.”

“Don’t you need to be out here?”

Champ mooed, and then, “Nah. Garou’s got this. My boss is actually covering for me over at Musashi. Told him what was going on and he agreed to let me double-up with Garou.”

As they walked into the school and to Naaga’s classroom, Champ gave him a sidelong look.

“You know,” he said. “You’re really brave for coming back here after everything.”

Naaga felt startled. “I’m not brave,” he stammered.

“Come on, pal. A bunch of morons beat you up, Scorpio’d probably have let you stay home if you made even the slightest noise that way, and you’re still here? That’s pretty brave.”

“Or pretty stupid,” he muttered.

“There’s a fine line between stupidity and bravery. You’re on the brave side.” Champ clapped his shoulder as they approached his classroom. “Don’t let the bastards get you down, right?” Champ shrugged. “I’ll check on you at lunch. Holler if you need anything.”

The morning passed without incident. His seat was in the back of the classroom, and everyone left him alone. No one even commented on the bruises on his face—not even his teachers. Everyone else scrambled out of the classroom when lunch break came. Naaga hung behind, slowly putting items back into his bag and retrieving his lunch.

“Hey, Naaga. Are you okay?”

He looked up. Balance. “Not really,” he finally said, honestly.

Balance nodded sympathetically. “Those guys are real assholes. I’m sorry they did that to you.”

Naaga just nodded in response.

“I can’t believe you’re here today.”

He didn’t know why, but he replied with, “I’m transferring next term.”

“Don’t blame you. Not at all.” Balance shrugged. “I’m back in the Libra System next term.” Another pause, and then, “I’m sorry I was too chicken to overcome the social structure here. You seem like the kind of person I’d have really enjoyed hanging out with.”

“These people are terrible.”

“They really are.” Balance paused again, before saying tentatively. “Look, is it okay if we stay in touch? I have your addresses. I get it if you don’t.”

“I’d like that.”

“What are you doing for lunch?”

Naaga glanced at his phone. Scorpio was there and wanted to see him. And Champ likely did too. “I need to take care of some transfer stuff,” he replied vaguely.

“How about tomorrow? I’m ditching all these people I have been hanging out with. They bug me.”

Naaga felt a small smile tug on his face. “Okay.”

Balance waved as he left the classroom. Naaga let out a long breath and finished gathering his things.

\--------------------

_“Champ. How is he doing today?”_

_“Scorpio, that kid is stronger than even he knows.”_

_“I know. I almost told him to just stay home, and if he had made any noise about that, I would have let him in a heartbeat. But he didn’t.”_

_“I see why Stinger likes him so much.”_

_“I never thought I’d see my baby brother meet someone at seventeen and then be in it for the long haul, but that’s where he is.”_

_“High school love, huh?”_

_A shrug. “I met my girlfriend in high school and we’ve been together for twelve years. Only reason we didn’t get married years ago was because I needed to focus on Stinger, and she was willing to wait for me. So I know he can do it. Maybe Naaga can help me convince him to do something after high school that isn’t just banking on being a famous musician.”_

_“I have a feeling Naaga can be very persuasive when he wants to be.”_

_“Let’s hope.”_

\--------------------

The new school uniform was stiff and uncomfortable. Naaga pulled at the collar, picking at his breakfast. He had no reason to be nervous, but he was. His stomach clenched and roiled. Stinger finally reached over and loosened his tie a little, popping open the top button of his shirt. “Better?” he asked with a smile. Stinger’s cereal was almost all gone, whereas most of Naaga’s breakfast was still there.

“Not everyone wants to look like a delinquent like you,” Scorpio said with a long-suffering tone, getting up and putting his dishes in the sink. 

“I don’t look like a delinquent,” Stinger grumbled. “I look cool. Besides, no one enforces the tie thing.”

Scorpio just kissed the top of his head. Stinger wrinkled his nose and batted him away.

“They will get you if you try to have the shirt unbuttoned with a different shirt underneath,” Stinger added. “Oh,” Stinger continued. “Tsurugi’s a full-time teacher at Musashi now.”

“I know,” Scorpio replied. “And you better call him Ohtori-sensei at school.”

Naaga blinked and then pulled his Musashi welcome letter out of his bag. “Does that mean Tsurugi is my homeroom teacher?”

Scorpio glanced at the letter. “He must have gotten the A class.”

“Hame’s in that class.” Stinger swallowed more cereal. “I’m not.”

“You could be.” Scorpio moved to the counter to finish putting the lunches together. “If you applied yourself to anything, you’d be dangerous.”

“I do apply myself!”

“Not to things school-related.” Scorpio gave him a pointed look. “Re-join the soccer team and I will think about loosening my stance on your grades.”

“I don’t have time for that.”

“Because you are so booked doing what, exactly?”

“Things.”

Scorpio rolled his eyes.

Soon enough they were out the door and on their way to school. The last few days at Hatano had been hard, between people dropping him off and picking him up, and trying to never be alone anywhere at school. But Champ had helped. And oddly, Balance had too. He’d always kind of assumed that Balance kept him at arm’s length because that’s where he wanted him, but Balance turned out to be fun-loving and a troublemaker and definitely hated the stuck-up artificial kids at Hatano. Balance’s favorite thing to do was steal as many things from desks as he could and then wait to see how long before someone noticed and panic ensued. “These idiots won’t miss it,” Balance had said. Not that Naaga necessarily condoned stealing from classmates, but he’d had enough of those kids, so he didn’t actually care what Balance decided to lift. 

(Later, Naaga learned that Balance gave all the stuff that wasn’t reported missing to an android named Raptor at Seiko—Raptor was the nurse at the school and she discreetly distributed the school supplies to kids that needed them.)

The campus was so different. Things looked a little worn, a little run-down, and the students ran the gamut from people who looked serious about school and studying, to some people throwing paper and goofing off. Stinger was holding his hand as they made their way through the halls. No one commented on the gesture. In fact, most people seemed to give Stinger wide berth, and he encouraged it by simply glaring at anyone who got in their way.

Champ was standing just inside the main entrance, helping some new first year students find their way. He mooed and waved as they passed. 

Tsurugi was waiting outside the teacher’s room and waved them over. “Ohtori-sensei,” Stinger said, voice taking on a slightly sarcastic lilt. 

“Good to see you too,” Tsurugi replied dryly. “Go to class. I want to talk to Naaga.”

Stinger squeezed his hand and then disappeared down the hall. Naaga just followed Tsurugi into the teacher’s room and sat down in the chair Tsurugi rolled over to him near his workspace. Tsurugi had action figures on his desk and noticed Naaga looking at them.

“MechaGodzilla,” he said with a grin. “Pretty cool, right?”

Naaga nodded. 

Tsurugi pulled out a folder. “I really just wanted to talk to you before class, get an idea of what you wanted to do this year.”

“Do?”

“Your grades are impeccable. You are definitely one of the top students in the class, if not the top student in the class.” Tsurugi smiled. “We have a lot of ‘fail for the grading period, pass for the term’ around here. You have standing offers from pretty much every club and sports team to join them. And, let me tell you, the kendo club head was very insistent you seriously consider her group.”

“I was on the swim team at my last school.”

“Oh yeah? Which strokes?”

“Breast stroke and front crawl.”

“Do you want to be on the swim team here?” Tsurugi paused. “Before you answer, I have to warn you—the swim team here is very small, and there’s fewer boys than girls. You’d have to be willing to swim all strokes and possibly take up diving.”

“That’s okay.” That would actually be better than his old school.

“Excellent. I’ll let the coach know.” Tsurugi paused. “Anything else? There’s robotics, programming, a whole bunch of mock United Galaxies stuff.”

“Maybe robotics?” He paused, and then quickly said, “I also want to get a part-time job.”

“That will definitely eat into your time.”

“Tell Hame maybe on kendo?”

“She’ll be ecstatic if you just agree to be a sub.”

The warning bell rang. Tsurugi stood up and Naaga followed suit.

“Come on. I’ll show you where the classroom is. Your seat will be in the back.” Tsurugi smiled wryly. “And I won’t make your introduction too embarrassing, given I have to introduce myself too.”

Turned out, Tsurugi was a natural in front of the classroom and had immediate control of the class of third years, in spite of the fact that he was not that much older than them. As promised, he kept Naaga’s introduction short, and then released him to go to his seat. The moment Tsurugi finished his own introduction, and then gave beginning of the year announcements and reminders, and left for their first hour teacher to come in, Hame turned around. Naaga had not even noticed at first that she was sitting in front of him.

“Ohtori-sensei said you’d think about kendo club?”

“He told you already?” When?

She waved away his question. “One of my friends is a teacher’s aide before school. She overhead part of your conversation with Ohtori-sensei.”

“I’m not sure yet,” he told her.

“Please?” she said, hands clasped together. “Just be a sub. Then we won’t get disqualified from competitions for having too few people.”

“I don’t know yet.”

“I’ll convince you at lunch.” She then turned back around because their first hour teacher had come into the room. 

Naaga blinked. He’d assumed that he and Stinger would eat lunch together, but never had considered that someone like Hame would just assume him as part of the group. A small smile tugged at his lips, warm feeling in his chest dissipating some of the nerves. 

The morning passed quickly and the bell was ringing for lunch break before he knew it.

“Awesome!” Hame said as everyone began to scatter for lunch. She pulled her lunchbox, which had green stars on it, out of her bag. She stared at him expectantly. And then Naaga realized she was waiting for him to get his things for lunch. “We have this spot under a tree where we meet,” she was saying as he extracted his own lunch from his bag. “Spada will be there, and probably his friend Lucky. Have you met Lucky before?”

“Are you badgering him about kendo club?”

Stinger had just walked into their classroom.

“No!” Hame protested. “Well, not yet,” she conceded.

Stinger’s hand was warm on his waist. “Hey,” he said, turning his attention to Naaga. He pressed a soft kiss to his lips, one that made Naaga want to melt against him. The kiss was maybe a little longer than it needed to be in front of other people, but Naaga found himself still wanting to hang on for more.

“You guys are so sweet!” Hame exclaimed.

Stinger gave her a withering look as he took Naaga’s hand.

They went outside and to a spot near the edge of campus. Two boys were already waiting for them—Spada, and someone Naaga had not met who he assumed was Lucky. Stinger just introduced him by saying, “That’s Lucky.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you!” Lucky said, grinning. “Spada says you live up to the glowing way that Stinger describes you.”

Stinger glared at Lucky, as he sat down. Naaga sat close to him, a little pleased when Stinger kissed his cheek, their legs touching.

“I think they’re cute!” Hame said, slightly dreamy expression on her face.

“I don’t think ‘cute’ is a word in Stinger’s vocabulary,” Spada replied with a grin. 

Naaga didn’t say much during lunch, just happy to be around people who liked him. Stinger had been right all along—everything would work out. 

That night, at dinner, Scorpio just looked at them and said, “Okay. Where’s the giant stack of papers I have to sign on the first day?”

Naaga had all of his in a neat stack, that he handed over without comment. Scorpio flipped through the stack, pausing at the one that Naaga hoped he wouldn’t pause at. Stinger pulled a fistful of papers out of his bag. Scorpio gave him a look. “That’s not everything. Go through your bag and find everything.”

While Stinger was going through his bag and extracting more papers, Scorpio just said in an undertone, “Every first day of school, he does this. Even in elementary school when everything was in a folder, he managed to have stuff all over his backpack.”

When Scorpio was satisfied that Stinger found all the papers, he just said, “Go do homework or something in your room for a minute. I want to talk to Naaga.”

“Really? I swear I found everything.”

“Stinger.”

“Okay. I’m going.”

Scorpio rubbed his eye as Stinger went down the hall. “He is an idiot if he thinks I am comparing what you’ve got to what he’s given me. If he missed something, he can suffer the consequences.” Scorpio pulled the form out of Naaga’s stack. “Talk to me about this—this isn’t a school form. It’s a permission slip for you to have a part-time job.”

Naaga looked down at the table. “I just want to help out.”

“Why do you think you need to?”

“Stinger has a part-time job.”

“Oh good grief. He helps out in the bakery once in a while and Spada’s dad pays him under the table. He uses that money to fund his band, since I told him I wasn’t paying for things not school-related or school-adjacent, which that is not. That’s not a part-time job, no matter how he spins it.”

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

“Hey, look at me.” Naaga looked up. Scorpio looked serious, but sympathetic. “I have a good job. I can more than afford to have both of you here and fund your school stuff and give you allowances. Plus I have a government job, so your tuition gets waived. I want you to concentrate on school. Worry about the part-time job when you get to university.”

Naaga nodded.

“Good. I’ll sign all this stuff and get it to you both.” Scorpio glanced through Stinger’s papers. He paused at one and then pulled it out. “That little brat,” he muttered. “He’s finally re-joining the soccer team.” He leaned back in his chair and called, “Stinger! Get in here!”

“I thought you wanted to talk to Naaga,” Stinger grumbled as he reappeared.

“I did. Now I want to talk to you.”

Naaga excused himself and went into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He caught pieces of their conversation. “It’s not a big deal, Aniki!” He just laid down on the bed, not sure what he was feeling. Hopeful? Secure? Content? The day had gone better than he thought, ending with he and Stinger coming home and making love before his older brother got there. Before, he couldn’t have imagined someone as close to him as Stinger, but now that Stinger was, he couldn’t imagine going back to the way he was before. And he was not letting go.

\--------------------

_Epilogue  
Counting the grains of sand across our world…_

“Okay, I’m in charge this week, because no one’s parents or guardians would agree to this trip without a chaperone. So here I am. Champ is my co-chaperone. We have very few rules.”

Naaga smiled a little, snuggling closer to Stinger on the couch. Stinger just wrapped an arm around his shoulders, tucking him against his side. The trip had been suggested by Spada, a little while before summer break started. His family had a beach cabin, and no one was renting during the first week of summer break. They could stay there for free, only paying for food and any activities, but with the beach and hiking paths and stuff on the property, that would be minimal. Everyone agreed that they could afford the trip, but Spada’s parents had said they would only allow the trip if they managed to find an adult willing to go with them.

Tsurugi and Champ had agreed surprisingly easily.

But it was a week at the beach. Their easy agreement made sense.

Champ did not sleep, so he did not need a bedroom. Tsurugi was staying in the master bedroom on the first floor. There were three bedrooms upstairs. Hame was taking the small room with a private bathroom. Lucky and Spada were sharing the room with the bunk beds. Stinger and Naaga were staying in the room with the double bed, but would have to share the bathroom with the other two boys. Small price to pay for more bed space than usual.

“Rule one, no orgies. No one here is emotionally prepared for that and I do not want to deal with a meltdown about something easily preventable.”

Lucky snickered, indicating the improbability of that happening.

“Rule two, no drugs or alcohol. Don’t make me do a random bag search.”

“No one here can afford alcohol,” Stinger said under his breath.

“Excellent prevention, then,” Tsurugi shot back. “Rule three, no permanent bodily injury to yourself or others. I don’t care how cool a picture it will make.”

“There goes the slip ‘n slide off the roof,” Spada muttered to Lucky. Hame looked crestfallen that that wasn’t happening anymore.

“Rule four, no fires where fires should not be. Fire in the fire pit is good. Fire anywhere else is bad. Got it?”

Everyone nodded.

“Rule five, no bothering me or Champ unless you are bleeding, you have broken the fire rule, there is death, or a venomous animal.”

“What about bears?” Lucky asked.

“Not venomous. Don’t care. Just stay still and the bear will either leave you alone or eat you. But if the bear eats you, you are then under the bleeding rule and can bother me.” Tsurugi made a sweeping gesture. “Any questions?”

At the silence, he turned to Champ. “Champ, feel free to repeat the rules in a much more menacing fashion than I just did.”

Champ huffed, and then said, “No orgies, drugs, alcohol, permanent injury or arson. No bothering unless there is blood, fire, death or poison.”

Luck waved his hand in the air. “What about temporary injury?”

“What are you doing that would cause temporary injury?” Tsurugi looked at him over the top of his sunglasses.

“Roof slip ‘n slide.”

Tsurugi stared at him for a long moment. “You better go into town and get a bigger kiddie pool if that’s what you’re planning with the tarps.” He glanced around to all of them, and then shooed them out of the living room. “Now go away and be irresponsible teenagers and don’t bother me!”

“We have to go get a bigger pool!” Hame said on the porch.

“Town’s just a short walk,” Spada replied.

“Let’s go!” Lucky added.

Spada turned to Stinger and Naaga. “You guys coming?”

Stinger wrapped an arm around Naaga’s waist, pulling him close. “You all go ahead.”

When they disappeared down the path, Stinger pulled Naaga fully into his arms, kissing him soundly and deeply, tongue rolling against his own. Naaga’s hands were on his shoulders, gasp hitching into the kiss. When Stinger pulled away, he just smiled.

“Our room is over the kitchen, so unless Tsurugi decides to hang out there…” He trailed off, predatory gleam in his eyes.

“So we can make as much noise as we want?” Naaga asked, smiling a little.

Stinger kissed him again, murmuring against his lips. “I have wanted you since we got here this morning.”

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” Naaga replied, smile growing.

Stinger grabbed his hand and they went back inside, taking the stairs two at a time. The sun was hot on their skin as they explored each other on the bed. Afterward, they lay in bed, tired and spent. Stinger was tracing nonsense patterns on his back, and Naaga’s hand just rested on his arm.

For the first time in his life, Naaga could imagine a future, sharp and vivid, not vague or fuzzy, and he wasn’t scared. He wanted to move through that future, because he knew, no matter what, he’d be okay and he could do this.

He would have never found this strength without Stinger kissing him at the club.

“I love you,” he murmured to Stinger.

Stinger turned to him, smiling. “I love you too.”

_Facing the light of the breaking dawn._

**Author's Note:**

> Folks, I have seriously begun to think about Scorpio the way I think about John Winchester - pretty terrible, but redeemed himself in the end, and now, in my head, I just want him to have been awesome all along. Hence, Stinger got a supportive, awesome older brother in this piece. I usually am writing hardcore Stinger angst, so this definitely dialed the Naaga angst to 11. And we don't know much about Tsurugi yet, so he just got to be the slightly older cool guy.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think! Now back to the other piece once we get a new episode! Peace out!


End file.
